


Adventures in Misdirection and Meddling

by Your_fifth_shot_of_tequila



Category: South Park
Genre: F/F, I Blame Tumblr, M/M, Multi, So original I know, South Park: The Fractured But Whole, Stan has a colorful vocabulary, Started out as homework and it went down hill from there, Stick of Truth AU, angst???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-04-30 15:45:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14500284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Your_fifth_shot_of_tequila/pseuds/Your_fifth_shot_of_tequila
Summary: “Look, your Highness,” I start gently maintaining his eye contact, “I’m sorry I wasn’t what you’re looking for, but you look exactly like my friend Kyle, and if I look like your Stan chances of this being a coincidence seem kind of small.” My tongue feels like jerky in my mouth his eyes are sharper than any saw blade. “Whoever took me and brought me here must’ve also taken your Stan maybe even stuck him with my Kyle if we work together surely, we can find a way to your Stan, please, I need to get home if my Kyle is half as worried as you then I need to get home as soon as possible.” The words rush out desperate for him to see the truth. Silence ticks throughout the forest around marking time until only the King illuminates the surrounding darkness.When Toolshed wakes up in an alien forest only self-deprivation and the promise of seeing Human Kite again keeps him going. Caught in a world he doesn't understand with a Kyle lookalike is hard enough, but sprinkling on the fact he's just a human in two realities has him on his wit's end. How can he justify getting back to Kyle when all he is a burden? And where the hell is he anyways?





	1. Chapter 1

‘Where the hell is he? It’s been hours since I started wandering and I’m more lost than ever.’ Massaging my sore head, the knot forming there tender to the touch the headache it brings though is less than tender. The forest surrounding me is denser than any I’ve ever hiked in near home, as a matter of fact I’ve never even seen some of the foliage that surrounds me; some of the trees look like normal pines, but are so huge the tops are invisible from the ground with deep purple bark instead of brown; the grass overgrown brushing my calves with blue blades that glow when disturbed; a strange flowers sprouts all around like the weird offspring of a columbine and a gladiolus, star petals arranged into multicolored lines along tall thick stems. To say I’m lost is an understatement, however where I am lost is a good question considering I was just in Denver saving a woman with my partner the Human Kite when the world went black and I woke up in this alien forest. At least I hope it’s alien at the few adventures I’ve been on to the realm of Klexidor are best left buried forever. Hours back I’d laughed at my predicament figuring the others were playing a prank, send Jack Hammer to one of our alien homeworlds with the epoch converter for a bit bring him back and laugh, hours later I’m still here wandering if this was a prank it’s not a funny one anymore.  


It would have been an easy enough set up I guess, me and Kite were supposed to check up on a dropped call from a known domestic that the police often had trouble getting to in a timely fashion due to Denver traffic being an absolute nightmare. The usual song and dance nothing out of the ordinary Kite flew us out to the eastside of Denver his body tense at the thought of handling another civilian case. You see Kite isn’t human in fact most of the Freedom Pals aren’t or at least not fully, and humans tend to be scared of well anything that isn’t exactly like themselves and some people like to use that fear to demonize anything that remotely overpowers them.  


It was a few years back when the lawsuit happened, a petition against Kite for excessive force and vigilantism. Kite was busting some ass clown stealing cars from hotels wearing a valet costume; Kite chased him from the sky. A half hour in the guy got desperate I don’t know how he thought wrecking the 16th street mall and mowing down crowds would help him lose Kite in the end though; it was an awful tragedy that ended with twenty dead with over forty severely injured. When Kite finally caught the guy, he tore him from the car beating him until the guy looked like he’d smacked every branch in an ugly tree. When I finally got there with Mysterion, Kite was crying his fists slamming into the guy with every guttural cry. Mysterion wrestled Kite off grim as Kite screamed execution at the man, blood squelching around our boots the victims’ mixing with the purp’s. I emptied my stomach on the hot pavement watching it mix with the blood. “Did you know when humans die they release their bowels? Your species is so primal.” Kite’s words became a mantra in my head as the puke melted with the vomit; we come out of our mom’s screaming and shitting ourselves these people died the same way, another cycle completed. In court the guy’s face was still completely swollen on the right side black and blue like a demented tie dye; no judge in their right mind would convict Kite for his rage against the man considering Kite has always been a by the book hero responding on time with courtesy to the law. The jury was split on the issue for days, but after forty-eight hours they declared Kite in the right, however alien vigilantes were no longer aloud alone without a human of the law. Though the law did little to actually make the other’s start babysitting me on missions Kite stopped going on missions all together for a while.  


“He said since I was an alien I had no right on American soil to enforce the laws. Can you believe that? He murders twenty people and has the nerve to blame me.” Kite didn’t cry often and rarely in front of anyone, but for a few days that’s all he would do not leaving his apartment. It took several long months of setbacks and baby steps before I got him back on missions with me. Now we were relatively inseparable even if we weren’t in the same vicinity during a call I could expect him to swoop in and whisk me away on a call. It’s a running joke around the group that we’re married something a few have told newspapers. My face starts to burn and not from the trek, Kyle never gives away his feelings easily although he’s always been vocal about the spread of rumors. The marriage rumors tend to fall deaf ears always shrugging them off with an eye roll or a single finger salute.  
Thinking in the clear air of the strange forest it’s easy to see now there were signs that today was going to royally suck an egg. The domestic call seemed standard something Mysterion or I would respond to alone, but Kite had been on edge all day following me around like a helicopter parent insisting we sit it out until Commander Yates called his voice tight with restrained rage prompting me to cut the call short promising a speedy response much to Kite’s dismay. “Why can’t they do their own damn jobs?” He’d fussed his eyes darting around the skyline nervously as we flew his vice grip on my forearms leaving bruises. It’d been miserable having him on my ass all day and the call was the icing on the shit cake of an already shitty day of constant nagging or questions. It was like being fiver years old again after the terror attacks; my mom constantly over analyzing my wants and following whatever food paranoia was in the news that week, only Kite was worse. His questions on why were more why all humans seem to do almost similar routines without fail, why our world is designed this way, why do they put things in food meant to kill you slowly. I’d been on the verge of existential raging at him and curling up in a ball to rethink my place in the universe.  


“You didn’t have to come Kite, me and Mysterion could have responded.” Kite didn’t dignify the statement with even a nod just kept scanning the skyline for whatever had him on edge. The guy we were after had stumbled in drunk at three after being missing last night, assumed to be out on a bender, and began beating his wife after finding out she had already cleared dinner from last night. The front door was wide open when we arrived on the scene. Plates and cutlery littered the floor some shattered completely others chipped and cracked, Kite shook his head in disgust at the sight flipping up the shades on his goggles he ushered me in first his eyes warily watching the sky one last time. We followed the shouts and screams to the bedroom of the single bedroom. The house reeked of booze and empty bottles littered every cubic foot of the stained shag carpet. The man looked like a demented cherub that had grown addicted to meth and had to live in a bar dumpster. His voice boomed in the small house as he demanded she open up and take her beating like a man. I walked up on him with three big brisk steps.  


“Hey asswipe!” He turned into my swing perfectly dropping one punch like a bitch leaving my gloved hand glistening with vomit and drool while Kite attended to the woman healing her bruises. She cried clinging to Kite desperately her shirt collar torn and stretched. Her eyes hollow red rimmed pits she answered Kite’s questions with a cavernous voice her eyes cautious on the knocked-out man. I dragged her soon to be ex out of the house and sat him down on the porch deciding it might be best for not only her but Yates and his men to come and snag him as quickly as possible. I laid him out on his stomach in the waning sun his hands tight behind him with zip ties the sirens of police echoing from a few blocks. The world felt calm my lips twitching to light up a cigarette and enjoy the sun going down behind the skyscrapers in the distance, when a loud screech drowned out everything. My ears rang and my vision started to swim I turned to see Kite running to the front door his hand out stretched his mouth moving ‘Stan!’ when something hit my head and the world went black. When I awoke I was deep in the weird blue grass the sound was gone and so was Kite.  


The sun hangs low against the trees bathing the forest like a perfectly golden dinner roll reminding my stomach that dinner should’ve been soon. Sighing I look around hoping to find a low branch, if I’m going to run out of sunlight I might as well see if I can get a better idea of my surroundings while the sun is out. Only problem all the trees here are impossibly tall, the lowest branches a good twenty feet above my head. One tree during my walk looked remotely small enough for me to hopefully reach with a running jump, hopefully; however, said tree is about five miles back and already my legs are uncooked noodles pushing them any farther and I’ll be al dente. If Kite were here he’d roll his eyes at the pun, ‘Be serious we’re on a mission.’ he’d smile all the same though. He’d looked so worried from the doorway maybe he knew the screech was going to come he just didn’t know when. Kite is an alien after all if I’ve been abducted chances are it’s because: one, I’m the only full human on the team and wouldn’t recognize another planet; two, I’ll probably die out here long before anyone finds the exact planet I’m on and; three, if I disappear they’ll be able to fight the Freedom Pals without the extra body thrown at them.  


‘Stop it stupid brain now’s not the time for self-pity, food first.’ Climbing the trees is unavoidable if I want to find food or see my surroundings. Kite could fly out of here maybe fly to Earth and not be a burden on the team, but I’m not Kite all I can do is try to jump for the branch and hope it works, ‘Or I could look in my tool belt.’ My hands fly to my toolbelt groping around the pliers and wrenches digging for, ah there it is, ‘Thank you brain you’re not completely useless.’ Stretching both myself and the tape of the tape measure I hook the branch of a nearby tree sending a silent thank you to Professor Days for modifying all my tools to be super high-tech gadgets. I give the tape a cautious tug when I think it’s secure in the crook of the branch, reeling it in slowly when it doesn’t budge.  


No matter how many times me and Kite go for flights around the city the thought of heights makes my stomach roll and as my feet get higher off the ground my brain flashes images of my legs broken and bleeding, I try to push the images down to avoid vertigo. After what feels like hours of focusing on the sky singing Toxic by Britney Spears to avoid glancing down I reach the branch hefting myself up to sit on it. The trees don’t even feel like trees where the hell am I? Underneath my touch the bark feels like my mom’s old porcelain plates she kept locked in the dining room cabinet, smooth and cold even the feeling of doing something wrong begins to eat away at me. I broke those plates on accident when I was eight, not trying to break them. I just wanted to touch their soft looking faces that shined like mini moons, reaching too high to the sky breaks men. The tree smells like sunflowers and lavender, wherever I am it’s not Earth and as the sun wades underneath the horizon the golden light fading into burnt orange I know that if I don’t move now I won’t make it up at all. Wobbly, I start stretching reaching out on tip toe for the next branch which seems to want to play keep away slipping past my fingertips every time they seek purchase. My fingers graze it one last time the branch taunting me to jump, the temptation to look down and see the drop I’ll face is tempting, however being a professional chicken shit, I also know I’ll lose all resolve to keep climbing if I glance down. ‘3,2’ My legs bend and launch me into the air my hands splaying out to grasp the branch and hoist myself up. For a scary moment my hands slip from the branch, in the heartbeat it leaves I clench tight my knuckles turning white. Fire races down my arms sprouting sweat from exertion I pull myself slow and steady breathing through my nose. Boogers dribble down my chin as I heave. Once my waist is clear I collapse folding over the branch making a promise to more time in the gym and less at the table if I survive this climb.  


“I’ve gotta find some sort of people, I can’t be alone here not with this much plant life.” It’s not the most reassuring plan with the threat of unfriendly inhabitants but inhabitants could mean space travel and food, if I need to commandeer a ship to attempt a flight back to Earth then so be it. Kite’s face the worry etched in his face forces me from my rest and back to the task at hand. Kite is probably losing his mind right now, I wonder if Tubberware and Mysterion had to take him on a flight while Doctor Timmy and Wonder Tweak tried to trace my abductors. Part of me wonders if he’s crying rubbing tears away harshly claiming he’s fine stubbornly so no one pulls him off the search. Whoever abducted me is getting their face beat in even if I only have a snowball’s chances in hell of winning the fight; but I’ll be damned if I don’t get in some bruisers.  


If I hadn’t been so worried about choregraphing my imaginary fight maybe I would’ve looked for a different branch to jump to this or walked farther out on the limb to grab at one of the limbs dangling into this one; however, this isn’t the story of the sharpest tool in the shed. Falling is an unpleasant feeling to say the very least, one moment you’re in the air weightless the next gravity is reminding you that hey you can’t fly dumbass and boom you’re falling. I’d be lying if I said I faced imminent death bravely or with a sherd of dignity an eighty-foot plummet and one thing crossed my mind like a single-minded fool. Kite. Kyle.  


“KKKKKKKYYYYYYLLLLLLEEEE” I screamed watching the soft grass grow horrifyingly close, I’d shitted myself if my ass wasn’t so clenched from fear. I closed my eyes trying to think of anything other than impending doom, and all I saw was Kyle’s broken face at finding how stupidly I died. His eyes red and puffy face red with anger, tears streaked into my hair, ‘Unreliable up until the end, just a worthless tool with a drill.’ Deciding to watch the ground rise to meet me would be less painful than Kyle’s crying face burning itself into my final moments my eyes crack open ‘Holy shit!’ The grass stretched out to me wrapping around my arms and legs slowing my descent in a microfiber embrace till setting me borderline tenderly on the ground. “What the fuck?” I question the forest my head whipping around for the grass whisperer.  


“Stan!” A figure burst from the literal tree likewise I jumped back screaming until I got a better look at the tree thing. It was Kyle, but not exactly my Kyle, this man carried himself with an air of importance his red robe evoking attention with the swirls of gold flowering out across his chest and down his sleeves, although his clothing wasn’t the only odd thing about this guy. Kyle has some big ears granted, they’re one of his more adorable quirks this guy’s ears however; look like ye old daggers curving skyward coming to twin points on either side of a dense forest of fiery red hair that glowed in the dying sun. His eyes worn and puffy quickly losing the spark of joy in them turning to cold distant emeralds.  


“Ky-le?” My voice is raw from screaming cracking like a teenager in front of a crush, embarrassed clearing of my throat allows me to glance to the side taking him in through my peripheral while looking for an escape. He’s huge compared to my Kyle easily towering over me with a good foot instead of a few inches, he gazes down with a barely contained sneer like my very presence is offensive. A crown of red branches twists into his hair like fuel to the fire.  
“You’re not my warrior.” His voice deep like a mountain lion growl dripping with malice. He raises his hand accusingly holding a long skinny branch of the same red wood in my direction, raising it to his chin then slamming it into the ground. The roots of the tree behind him strike out of the ground like whips dirt flinging off them into my eyes blinding and wrapping around me with hatred.  


“Woah dude! We can talk about this!” The roots force me into the ground trying to plant me at the man’s feet, tightening with no mercy when I struggle, forcing me on my ass with hard thud I feel in my spine. The dirt in my eyes stings forcing me to rub madly at my shirt trying to dislodge it.  


“IMPOSTER!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY TRUSTED!!” Not-Kyle bellows his voice hard like Kyle’s is when he’s on the verge of losing his temper freckles wrinkling into worry lines just like Kyle ‘Not the time for distractions!’. From firsthand experience I know Kyle isn’t someone who calms down easily, and this guy is nowhere near leveled headed enough for an outright plea for help if he’s like Kyle though I know how to handle this. Time for calm cool Stan to smooth things out.  


“Look dude,” I start keeping my voice light the dirt in my eyes still burning causing them to water uncontrollably, “I’m kind of lost myself I don’t know where this is and I’m not exactly in the mood right now to have some Lord of the Rings king of twigs interrogate me, either kill me or throw me in jail but don’t yell like at me like I’m the asshole attacking a stranger with killer trees.” Nailed it, calm and cool Not-Kyle’s face contorts in irritation he raises his staff and another root shoots out sharp aiming for my chest. I know better than to flinch if dealing with villains, run of the mill baddies, and super powered friends teaches a man anything, it’s that he who flinches first loses. Not-Kyle holds my eye contact even with tears clouding his face I watch it untangle from indignation to weariness causing the root to stop a breath away from piercing skin poking sharply into my chest like an accusatory finger.  


“You act just like him, pridefully foolish, what if I hadn’t stopped the root? Ran you through and killed you, where would you be with your boorishness then?” It’s a question in the vein of one Kite asks me after I do something dangerous, one that I know has a right answer and a stupid one.  


“Then I’d be dead and you’d have to clean up after me, so I’d win the day.” I flash a smile at him watching for sign of my Kyle’s humor. At first, he looks like I smacked him with my drill butt between the eyes, green plates wide in shock thinning into smiling crescents his lips stretching thinly.  


“You’re so much like him I truly thought...” His face darkens again he turns his back to me stepping into the tree again the roots drop back into the ground. Panic seizes me I reach out rising to my feet so fast the world spins fear makes me grip his shoulder, fear of losing Kyle again, I feel him tense up.  


“Wait!” It’s desperate, hell desperation is the only thing that makes sense, losing him now feels like death, “I’m lost I heard a loud screech and then I woke up here, you’re looking for someone named Stan, right?” Not-Kyle freezes too busy watching him I fail to notice the root wrapping around my torso pinning my arms low to my sides, his eyes shadowed darkly as he turns. His eyes hollow mouth an apathetic line.  


“What of it?” Knife cuts for words his patience thinner than the blade his words hold at my throat. Swallowing slowly, I mentally plan my next words this needs to be sincere or he’ll leave me out here to die.  


“My name is Stan, please believe me I’ve been abducted and stranded out here for I don’t know how long.” Licking my lips sweat drips with time, “I heard a loud screeching and something clonked me on the back of the head next thing I know I wake up here, please I’m looking for my friend his name is Kyle, when I was calling for him the grass saved me, is Kyle your name?” He regards me coldly looking down his nose his eyes searching the validity of my story. The challenges are more defense mechanisms at this point, apparently even this Kyle has trouble trusting people regardless of closeness. Push them away before they get rid of you is how he put it. Who hurt Kyle so much even other Kyles fear attachment?  


“Yes, I am King of the Elves my most trusted warrior has been missing for three days, when I heard you yell I thought it might be him, clearly I was wrong.” He sniffed finally breaking the silence with a raised eyebrow at me not impressed with my pleas. My heart jackhammers against my lungs, this guy looks completely wrecked. His eyes rimmed dark black and red his face hollow like a pit, obviously he’s been going nonstop for three days if I’ve been missing for three days chances are my Kyle looks like this guy. It’s a heartbreaking thought one I mentally kick myself for.  


“Look your Highness,” I start gently maintaining his eye contact, “I’m sorry I wasn’t what you’re looking for, but you look exactly like my friend Kyle, and if I look like your Stan chances of this being a coincidence seem kind of small.” My tongue feels like jerky in my mouth his eyes are sharper than any saw blade. “Whoever took me and brought me here must’ve also taken your Stan maybe even stuck him with my Kyle if we work together surely, we can find a way to your Stan, please, I need to get home if my Kyle is half as worried as you then I need to get home as soon as possible.” The words rush out desperate for him to see the truth. Silence ticks throughout the forest around marking time until only the King illuminates the surrounding darkness.  


“My Kyle,” his voice is barely a whisper, but the small smile in his voice extinguishes the anger around him, “come other Stan,” his voices hardens back up not harshly defensively, a hand beckoning over his shoulder with long slender finger adorned with wooden rings, “if your story is true than I have an idea of whom might be responsible for this mess.” With that he fades into the tree the roots dragging me along.


	2. The One Where Stan Gets Food and Threats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long finals week finally passed and I'm currently gearing for a move in June after that updates should be more frequent and consistent. Well enough with my excuses on to Stan's pain.

Tree travel is not the worst method of travel I’ve been involuntarily dragged on, nonetheless it’s not one I’d ever recommend if you’re: pregnant, have a heart condition, weak stomach, or weak bowels. Purple blurs past so fast it feels like your is skin peeling off with every second, but you’re completely still the world just takes a bit of you has it runs you over. The sensation completely unique from any alien travel which has the force but you’re braced against something, most often a chair, tree travel, however, has all the force without the brace. It’s like falling but you’re standing grounded against the floor while the rest of your body is in freefall, your body forced bone-crushingly straight by sure will. Purple begins to fade into gold and when my face smacks the ground with a sharp slap I realize we’ve arrived. Has nausea swells in me the cold floor against my face becomes a more than welcome sensation. Kyle kneels in front of me his goggles around his neck an ungloved hand reaching out to cup my cheek. Its hesitant like normal when he drops me but unlike usual his face contorted in distrust and guilt there’s a small smile on his lips it so unnatural but beautiful, tears start swelling in my eyes. I blink them away as well as the vision of my Kyle. The king’s hand is unnaturally cold just like Kyle’s a reminder neither is human. His polished rings sliding against my cheek his fingers twitch at my hairline.

“May I?” it takes a second to register the words and a second more to form a response.

“Errmgh” With that to go off of his fingers slowly thread into my hair smoothing it away from my face his fingers curling softly around my neck. If you’ve ever been out in the woods on a hike after a storm you know it’s a transcendent experience. The ground practically hums with life has creatures set out to rebuild after a storm, or in the best cases, the trees bloom releasing pollen into the air drifting like soft puffs of snow. A snowfall for spring one last gift before the season fully set to sleep. The world focuses and the swirls of sick die into hungry growls, Kyle’s hand pulls away, and the feeling of spring goes with him, on instinct I latch on to his hand our eyes catch, and again it’s astonishing how tired he looks only now his eyes flutter slightly the magic taking a toll on his weary body. His hand twitches in my grasp lips slopping into a frown his left brow quirking up in concentration, thinking face. Realizing I’d grabbed a hot pan without a towel I released his hand looking away to fidget with my belt running my fingers across screwdrivers and wrenches. I hear him awkwardly clear his throat shifting restlessly to stand. Deciding it’s safe to look I slowly slide my eyes over to Kyle his hand stretched out to my face.

“Come, I imagine you are famished, the chef surely has dinner prepared.” Clasping hands hope sparked in me for the sensation again, instead, a cold calloused hand trailed me from the giant room. The walls like solid gold draped with red velvet curtains. The high vaulted ceiling inlaid with gold trimmed murals of forest life following one strong stag around the domes. At the end of the hall we’re taking passage down two guards stand at attention their eyes never flickering from the hall. The skin exposed by their helmets purple like the trees in the forest their twin noses pointed and sharp. As we approached they swing open the doors watching us as we cross. The next room is more extravagant than what I’m going to assume was the great hall.

The grand dining room could easily fit the Freedom Pal’s hideout inside it with room to spare. The ceiling fades into nothing but night sky open to the elements, though the King doesn’t seem all that concerned with the hole. He brushes past the tables and chairs to a fireplace on the other side of the room. His back blocks me from seeing exactly how but the wall pops open and the King disappears inside the wall. It’s quiet in the hall alone, except the cracking of the fire which is the closest thing to feeling like home since I got here. The fire burns invitingly yellow with the purple logs feeding its fuel, keeping the room warm and calm. Three tables line the hall huge trimmed to look like giant leaves stretching half the length of the hall. I trace the nearest table mesmerized by the craftsmanship of the wood under my fingers is vibrant red like the King’s crown as well as polished like his vocabulary.

“I see the rumors are true.” A deep nasal voice catches me off guard from behind. I whip my head around ready to fight, but the man is leaning against a banister his arms crossed in amusement. “That idiot really did get himself so lost he forgot who he is.” The smile on his face has no venom or mirth, in fact, it’s barely more than a straight line like anything more would be exhaustive.

“Look, man, I don’t see why you gotta throw around insults, but I didn't get lost I was abducted" My hand instinctively moves to my drill, the man looks familiar but also completely new. The low monotone of his voice it reminds me of Super Dude, one of the heroes in the Freedom Pals, the guy may be on my team, but he’s always looked down on me. The human slowing down the rest of the team. My teeth start to grind at the thought of there being more than one of everyone including this asshat.

“Lost, abducted it’s all the same problem in the end,” Super Dude’s alter asshole pushes off the wall walking towards me his eyes never leaving mine however now there’s something shining there it’s not malice or hatred its amusement. I straighten up tightening my stomach just in case he goes for a low blow. The man’s exact build and size are obscured by the giant black cloak around his shoulders bunching up animal fur around the collar his face almost unreadable the most unbelievable thing about this world is this guy’s height. Super Dude is the tallest out of us granted, he's a six-foot-seven giant, but come on this guy is easily seven feet or taller towering over me. “Another mess I have to clean up because the King refuses to see you for the commodity you really are.” On that, he turns on his heel breezing out of the dining hall as quickly as he appeared.

I wanted to respond with a witty comeback, something to rub his nose but nothing came to mind. He was right no matter where I go I’m still just the human, the fuck up, the disappointment. My heart sinks and I blink back tears giving a low hollow laugh, I’m always the biggest joke even across realities. This must be happening at home too, Super Dude is out looking for me not because we’re allies but because Kite is a mess and the team can’t function without its healer. My hand digs into my pocket clenching around one of my dog tags. It’s been years since I’ve seen a battlefield like I had during my service with the Army, a battlefield of humans blown to bits and pieces. Allies mixing with enemies on the fields of blood and decay. It was horrible but at least I belonged there with the other humans.

“ _You know Stan, you’re a pretty smart guy.” Gary spits chew off the edge of the mountain we’re guarding watching it sink into the canyon below. He drummed on his gun in excitement at the echo of plip, ice blue eyes alight with joy. Rolling my eyes I search the sky for any planes, it’s too nice of a day for my comfort Gary hasn’t learned to fear clear blue skies yet. He’s new off the Heli carrier from basic. He hasn’t seen the carnage yet. The few feet of distance I try to maintain between us is slowly but surely being invaded again with this branch of conversation._

_“Harrison, I don’t have time for you to brown nose.” Gary laughs his hand coming down heavily on my shoulder._

_“I mean it, Stan, when you decided we should set up in this little mountain town the men were sure you had cracked, cause the Heli’s would have a bitch of a time dropping down, but look at this.” He wrapped the offending arm around my shoulders his other gesturing out to the world of the mountainside. “The mountains are the perfect artillery cover, there’s no way for an airstrike from us or them.” I want to tell him he’s wrong that they’ll pepper these mountains till we’re all drowning in lead, but then he’d ask who and I didn’t have the heart to tell him we matter as much to home as the others hiding on the mountains. We’re just firewood that screams when it’s on fire as long as they kill the enemy we can be written off as collateral damage. The only reason I choose these mountains it because it’s the closest to home I’ve seen out here in the earthly shades of the desert, the mountains covered in fine white sand that almost looks like snow from a great distance the smell of dust ruins any other illusions to the evergreens that dominate the mountains back home. I roll my eyes back down to his brushing his arm off to reclaim the five feet of distance._

_“Harrison, I just want to…” A loud whistle jerks my head skywards eyes scanning for the missile. BOOM! The mountain face in front of ours erupts into ash and smoke, “GET OFF THE FUCKING MOUNTAIN!” I grab Gary by his collar tearing ass down the mountain. I had two men on the face that just exploded Richards and Martinez, my brain screams their dead, but my body refuses to leave them behind. Another whistle sounds drawing ear piercingly close. The missile shoots towards our mountain in slow motion it looks like a bottle rocket. The kind I would shoot of at the police when I was dumb and young, ten years of karma stared me back in the face whistling happily the song of the end. I threw Gary to the ground jumping over him to take most the impact, knowing from this distance the chances of surviving this hit weren’t the greatest. The missile however impacted scrapping to a half an inch in front of my face. No air left our collective lungs as we stared down death. In the stillness of uncertainty, the missile inched away. My eyes couldn’t believe the man standing before me swinging the missile over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Are you guys natives?” His voice was calm and even like we weren’t in the middle of a war zone. His emerald eyes shining with_ patience _in the arid sun as he regarded the pair of us his orange ornate robes fluttering around him as he floats. My lips cracked when they moved but my voice refused to leave my throat watching the missile with weary eyes. The stranger seemed to notice our unease with the object because he threw it up into the sky with a displeased look. The missile shot right up disappearing in seconds and exploding in the sky like a firework. He stretches out his hand long slender pale fingers that look completely human, unlike I was expecting, a soft smile playing on his lips. His red hair curling freely around his face like a lion’s mane, a prince on a battlefield. “We’re humans of the United States Army, who are you?” I accept his hand hauling Gary to his feet with me. “_ Jaignis _former son of the realm of Klexidor.”_

“Are you alright?”

“Woah! Shit!” Kyle is back his face pinching with concern in the golden light his hair looks gentle like the fire crackling softly behind us. “Yeah I’m cool ya’ startled me ya’ know?” The dog tag sinks back into the pouch and I scratch the back of my neck nervously. It takes me a second to see he’s come out with a tray covered with a golden dome. It’s food I can smell it from here my stomach beings to imitate whales in protest.

“I did not mean to frighten you, but I’ve called for you a few times and you were not responsive.” Kyle’s hands leave the tray but instead of falling to the floor the tray stays suspended in the air while Kyle moves past it. His icy hand braces against my forehead his eyes wide with concern. Embarrassed I step back from his touch with a hollow laugh.

“I’m fine dude just a little tired and hungry is all.” Taking a seat on the opposite side of the table, I’m acutely aware of the eyes following me. He knows I’m lying, he always knows whether we be in this reality or another Kyle just knows. It’s mind-numbingly frustrating knowing I’m nothing more than an open book to everyone except myself. The tray of food floats over to me resting on the table uncovering itself for me. A golden roasted bird sits in the middle of the plate steaming steadily surrounded by blue leaves spotted with green, orange, and red square cuts of what I hope is vegetables. My mouth waters ignoring the silverware I tear into the meal. The bird is tender with juicy dripping down my chin as I separate bone from skin with my teeth and tongue, spitting out the bones. I’d forgotten about Kyle until I felt eyes on me. Sheepishly glancing up to catch his eye expecting to see his face cross with disgust, I see only mirth and content. It’s hard to keep the contact with a mouth full of food and hands dripping in grease. Swallowing down the huge bite is hard and if there’s bone in my, shit later I won’t be surprised, though my mother’s voice rings in my head Manners Stan, your dad may be a Neanderthal but that doesn’t mean you are. “Thank you, your Highness.” In an instant the content look is gone like a spell was broken with my voice. He smiles lightly though any previous happiness is completely void from the flex of muscles. “You must have been hungry to forget what a fork is for, I imagine you are tired enough to sleep in that chair forgetting the comforts of the bed.” Kyle raises his hand flicking his wrist one of the doors we came through opens and in walks a girl in a sleeveless plain red gown tied in the middle with a golden cord. The girl bows her head to the King. “Is it ready?” he asks his voice tight and regal. “Yes, my lord shall I show him to his chambers now?” her voice is strong and she meets the Kings gaze with one of her own. There’s no contempt between them only respect, despite the girl looking like a servant. His eyes focus back on me expecting me to answer. The bird before me is half gone its ribs laying on the side of plate-like white flags. I push myself from the massacre wiping my fingers on my pants with some reluctance when I stand. “Please lead the way miss.” She nods to the King as I approach looking me once over then turning away her hands clasped loosely in front of her. Following her out the hall I turn to see Kyle watching me. He nods slightly for me to follow, but the hollowness of his eyes as we leave almost makes me turn back, almost. The doors shut behind us and the guards retake their stances watching the hall with silent vigilance. The girl in red walks briskly through the hall and I’m jogging to keep up. Her charcoal black hair braided into an elegant bun flecked with red leaves. We pass by the tree that spit me out here, a tall red oak with willow-like branches crying blood red tears. She cuts left at the tree where two more guards are posted watching us approach. “The King’s guest is in need of rest.” Her voice carries like a harp through the great hall compelling the guards to push open their doors to a staircase winding high past the door frame. Fuck me. We start our ascent my legs already crying to go sleep in the dining room chair. My guide makes no signs of having any trouble with our current pace or terrain checking back constantly to make sure I’m somewhat close behind. “You’re really not him, are you?” She breaks the silence though there’s still more stairs to climb. “Wh-hh-ugh.” Bracing myself between the railing and my knees my lungs burn and I draw deep breaths to respond intelligibly. “What gave you that impression?” snark ebbs in my voice with waves of dizziness smashing into my skull. The click of her sandal as she turns echoes ‘You fucked up’ all throughout the staircase her steps are even as she descends her three-step lead to leer over me her eyebrow quirked in disapproval. “You’re height for one thing. Her four inches on me allows her plenty of room to look down on me in every sense of the way. “Your strange cloth for another,” she pokes at my shirt harshly forcing me to break eye contact to rub my chest. Returning back to her gaze she’s analyzing me up and down in a way that makes me feel like a cockroach she wasn’t sure which bug spray to use to kill. “And the King’s mood only marginally improving for another.” Her inspection stops her hands resting on her hips with an upturned sneer. “Look,” I sigh pinching the bridge of my nose to fight the oncoming’s of a migraine. “I don’t know where this is or why I’m here I was abducted by a loud screech and woke up in the forest of Laffy Taffy and death. I want to get home just as much as you guys want me out of your hair, so please if you don’t have anything other than insults and reminders that I’m not the right Stan I’d like continue the stairs of infinity to the guest bed in silence.” The girl rolls her eyes turning away fast enough to make the rope holding her dress at her hip to smack my chest and it’s hard not to think that was on purpose. We continued in silence until we reached a single door where she stood to the side drilling holes into my skull. “I’ll be sure to tip you in the morning for the charming conversation, though I’ll throw in an extra dollar if the pillows are fluffed.” I manage while pushing open the door, exhausting the last breath in my lungs in one go. She whipped around like a python ready to strike her hand slamming against the door to keep it open.

“So, help me small man,” She growled stepping close to lean down an inch from my face her breath warm and sharp with peppermint. “if I find out you’ve played a bigger role in Ser Stan’s kidnapping than you’ve let on and I will personally drag you from my deer and feed what’s left to my hounds, are we clear?”

“Crystal.” She stays in my space a few seconds waiting for me to back down, when she decides I’ve either passed or failed this match she straightens briskly stomping back down the stairs. I smash the door shut and collapse to the floor. ‘What a god-awful day.’ Untying my boots might go down as the most normal event to happen all day, a thought that makes my heart ache. I miss home I needed to go shopping for groceries while butter and eggs were still on sale, though if I’ve been gone for three days they’re definitely off sale now. If Kyle is this worried I can only imagine how my mom is right now, consumed with grief looking for her lost little boy. After a long day of sucking it up through a walk in a magic forest and falling to my almost death only to be found by elf Kyle and his court of people who hate me, tears finally fall. At first it was just twin streams slowly growing into rivers then the whole dam broke. Curling in on myself on the floor memories with my mom flood over my sanity with happy smiles I may never see again. What if there isn’t a way back? What if I die on the way back or I was supposed to die and whoever did this is going to come and kill me? What if they hurt mom? What if they kill Kyle? Between the guilt and exhaustion, I fell into a memory.

_“Lead with your hands like you always do, muscle head.” His smile is bright under his plum cape and black mask. His lanky form pressing forward on the glass of the wind tunnel, resting on his left forearm while making vague gestures with his hands for me to copy. Rotating my arms to the left I can feel my body slowly shifting to the right. “Use your hips feel the rhythm of the wind.” He sways his hips seductively winking dramatically. He burst into tears clutching his stomach in a boyish boisterous laugh._

_“Are you teaching him or teasing him?” Kite questioned from the main computer his attention focused on the screen with Tupperware. A video of Chaos’ latest heist playing on loop for the pair to over analyze again._

_“A bit of both!” Mysterion cheered turning his back to me to focus on Kyle, “Who knows maybe I can be the mistress he has extra late missions with?” Kite turned to face him, however whatever gesture Mysterion made it caused Kite to flush completely red his eyes darkening with anger he lunged at Mysterion. They wrestled on the floor while Mysterion laughed manically Kite only got this worked up over stupid taunts when he was tired, in a bad mood, or Cartman said it. Tupperware turned from the keyboard with a heavy sigh trudging to the wind tunnel, his one human eye rolling. The wind slowly died under me keeping me aloft for Tupperware to open the glass door reach in and grab my shirt collar pulling me out carefully._

_“Thanks Token,” I offer straightening my safety glasses._

_“No problem Shed though I want a set of replacement eyes till your husband is available.” He hefts a heavy sigh he beckoned me to the screen to look at the footage I followed letting the husband comment go. Our last fight with Professor Chaos hadn’t gone quite as planned with the villain escaping with both the loot and a laugh at our expenses, nonetheless figuring out what he has planned was more imperative. They’d broken into the Denver Art Museum while it was showcasing artifacts based around the spice trade in Europe, nothing really valuable was in the whole exhibit aside old spices and smugglers gear. Chaos left with only a stick that was found in a ship captain’s cabin in a chest. The branch itself was dated two million years before Christ making it one of the oldest sticks in the world, that still didn’t explain why Chaos took it._

_“I don’t get it man, if Chaos needed a new stick to make his General chase he could’ve gotten one from the park, why steal a super old one from museum?” Android scratched the human part of his head sighing deeply. He’s been on this computer looking at this screen since we fought Chaos looking for a missing piece no one is sure is even there._

_“Maybe he digs antiques?” I offer to a small smile crack on the guy’s face._

_“I_ _f only things were that simple Shed,” Tupperware focuses in on the gears on his arm tightening them in thought. ‘He’s got a bigger plan and it’s going to be a real shit show if no one takes it seriously, that thing was seriously treasured the original owner hid it in a chest full of gold and buried it in the ocean,” He releases the gears letting them spin and whirl for a second before tinkering with them again, “You don’t do something that drastic without a damn good reason.”_

_“I don’t know Token, it looks like a normal stick to me.” The screen paused on Chaos’ fist sparking with electricity aimed right at the camera in Tupperware’s other eye. This must have been right before Chaos fried his systems during battle dropping Ware like a sack of bolts. I put my hand on one of his sleek deep blue shoulders, the metal cold with the hums of gears whirling just underneath straining. “If it is dangerous though there’s no doubt between you and the Professor you’ll figure it out, otherwise why else would he have tried to disable you?” His brow furrows darker in concentration._

_“You’re not wrong.” He looked over and smiled his first one in days after the attack, I clap his shoulder and we focus back on the screen._

The warmth and comfort woke me. Sitting up in a strange place in a strange bed tends to be a bit of a shock so flailing so much to fall out of bed could happen to anyone right? Not just me, right? Rubbing sleep from eyes I attempt to pick up all the broken pieces of my thoughts. Yesterday I was in a forest looking for a way home when I fell into my current predicament, a kingdom of magical giant look-alikes who treated my appearance like Armageddon. The room they shacked me up in last night looks nothing like the rest of the castle, the red drapes replaced with deep blue on both the windows and around the bed in a fancy canopy like something out of Game of Thrones. The bed itself massive like everything else in this place is, standing its edge meets my chest, however I got in there it wasn’t done by normal means. The curtains are drawn shut keeping the room blissfully dark and it’s hard to fight the temptation to lay back down and fall asleep. Nonetheless I approach the curtain on the opposite side for the bed tentatively grasping it. Opening this commits me to the day ahead there’s still time to go and sleep.

I draw back the curtains quickly instantly being blinded by the light of the sun I turn away blinking the splotches of red, yellow, and blue from my vision. The room is bigger than my studio apartment a huge dark red wardrobe sitting in the more shadowed right corner of the room. Blue banners hang from the walls with the crest of a wolf curling protectively around a sword its teeth bared in a menacing growl. It looked pretty cool definitely a tattoo I’d get when I got back home. A chest lay at the foot of the bed a flat top locked with an old black iron lock, that looked sturdy. A wooden desk sat a few feet from the door covered in papers, books, quills, knives, rags, and small glass bottles filled with dark liquid though there were more knives than anything else. The mess of the desk brought a smile to my face, this had to be Stan of this reality’s room. No one had come banging on the door yet so my opportunity to explore was still young I closed the distance from the curtain reading through the papers. Or I would’ve if the writing they contained was intelligible, the characters decorating the page looked like mini forests written into straight lines. Each character consisting of one long line down the center and other little ‘branches’ running off to the sides. Some connecting with other lines on the character others having only one branch that hangs either from the left or right. The papers are useless to me but the knives don’t need a language to decode.

The blades were the only thing organized on the table going in ascending order from a small one-inch blade that came from its point to a small hilt barely big enough to hold between two fingers with a small hole at the end acting as the pommel. The longest blade looking like the Halloween bowie knife except the blade curved elegantly two inches into the blade in a beautiful smile. The handle’s soft leather wrapped expertly for comfort as I swung the blade around to get a feel for it the door opened. Like a kid caught in the cookie jar I hide the blade behind my back turning to face the intruder. The King stands with a soft smile on his face. His eyes look less heavy his skin glowing warmly in the sun.

“I was coming to wake you, but I see you’ve already risen.” His hand clasped loosely around his staff tilting his head slightly to the side. It’s too cute of an expression for my heart in the morning.

“W-w-hat?” My voice cracks bringing red-hot embarrassment to the forefront of my face I clear my throat glancing at the window trying to think of dead kittens anything to counterbalance Kyle. “What do you need from me your Highness?” I bow hoping this isn’t offensive or potentially worse more embarrassing. Kyle chuckles lightly it feels so foreign compared to how he looked just a few hours ago, worry and stress not replaced but lessened like this was something he could be content with. A stab of depression cuts into my heart am I so easy to replace any Stan would do? The thought is hard to extinguish however I can’t let it show, it’s not what we need right now.

“I’d like for you to bathe, dress, and meet me in the war room for food and discussion with my generals, we have to plan.” Straightening back up we look each other in the eye words unsaid exchange in a second it’s unbearable in the worst way being unable to say a million things because of the implications. I wanna hug him tell him that we’ll figure this out that we’ll get whoever did this and set it straight, but this isn’t my Kyle and I’m not his Stan, even then I wouldn’t hug Kyle it’s not my place to burden others with my feelings. My mom used to read me the Greek myths as a bedtime story, it had been her passion ancient civilization studies she had a degree in it and was looking to transfer to a big museum until she got pregnant and passed it on. To this day I remember most of the stories, however one hit painfully close to my current situation that of Tantalus. A mortal king who was jealous of the gods so he killed his son who happened to be Zeus’s favorite champion and cooked him into a meal for the gods. Naturally this outraged the gods with Zeus bestowing the heaviest punishment he could think of, the king was to be trapped forever parched in a lake up to his waist but unable to drink, to always hunger with an apple tree hanging just out of reach, to always see your desires but never hold them.

“I’ll be sure to meet you in the war room then your Highness.” He nods his eyes flickering between me and the door but doesn’t turn to leave his fingers tightening on his staff his lower lip dipping into his mouth to be chewed, he’s waiting for a move. Moments pass in silence both unsure how to be in this situation, until finally he nods again turning softly his back straight and head high while he descended from my sight. Every fiber in my body screamed to chase him down, I squash it down shutting my door with my head more than my arms. My heart slams against my ribs in protest, nevertheless I know better than this stupid heart how the world works. Kyle is a King in this world and an alien prince in mine princes don’t marry their jesters they marry princesses. If I came clean and he felt the same he could lose his kingdoms to the ‘scandal’ I let the tears fall from my eyes hating how all of this feels. I wanna rip the flesh off my bones and trade it in for a different face one that’s stronger, one that can make Kyle happy and fit in his world. I test the polish of the door with a punch relishing in how my knuckles get torn up with the grain like sharp barbs ripping away bits of meat. This is my hell designed by me a hell similar to that of Tantalus always wanting the one thing I can never have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter was worth the wait though I'll admit another reason it took so long was trying to figure out how serious this story is going to be. I'm still teetering on an obvious short ending as to whodunit and a maybe taking this on another ten chapters. This is my first published fic and so far it's going a hell of a lot better than I anticipated. Any nuts thanks for reading please let me know how you guys are feeling about this I'd love to hear from you! Have a nice day!

**Author's Note:**

> Based on http://foxydodo.tumblr.com/post/172841122730/swap-the-pointy-triangles-on-the-aviator-goggles#notes  
> cause honestly their art is amazing and you should check it out! If you guys loved it let me know if you hated it tell me what I could do better. Thanks for cutting some time out of your life to read this, have a great day!


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